


Rescue In Progress

by anysin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, Dubious Consent, F/M, Strangulation (not Sasha/Michael), appearance by Not!Them, sasha lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22508092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: Sasha is rescued from Not!Them by Michael. It still doesn't end well for her.
Relationships: Sasha James/Michael
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66
Collections: The Magnus Archives Rare Pairs 2020





	Rescue In Progress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nelja-in-English (Nelja)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelja/gifts).



Sasha can't breathe.

The creature on top of her is long, thin and shapeless. The creature has its hands around Sasha's neck and it's squeezing, grinning down at her with something that vaguely resembles a human mouth as Sasha thrashes against it, desperate for air and freedom. Sasha is running out of strength fast, however, the world going dark in her eyes. She's going to die- she's going to die-

When she feels the weight of the creature lift off her, Sasha is almost out of it, but when its hands leave her throat, she gasps first painfully, then greedily for air. She's alive, still, somehow; she wants to scream in joy, except her heart freezes in fear when she feels a pair of long, unnaturally long arms slide beneath her body, picking her up from the floor. She is too weak to move her limbs or even twitch away, but with great effort she manages to crack one eye just a little bit open, and look up.

It's Michael.

"Poor little assistant," Michael says. He - it - is smiling. "What a lesson this was for you. Being sacrificial did you no good, did it?" It pulls her tight against its body, turning around. "Got you almost killed, instead. What a waste that would have been."

It starts to walk, carrying her in its arms.

"I'm not an Archivist," Michael says. "I don't let things go to waste."

Sasha realizes too late that they're stepping through a door.

*

"You need to let me go!"

Sasha has lost count of how many times she has shouted this. Shouted, demanded, bargained; it's all the same because the end result never changes, and she remains here. She remains stuck in these endless hallways, accompanied only by her own image that is sometimes reflected back at her from the many frames on the walls, image that looks more and more unreal to her with every passing glance.

"I need to go back! They need to know that I'm alive, please!"

She knows Michael is somewhere in here. These corridors belong to it, after all; why else would it have brought her here? She knows it's around, watching her as she darts around looking for a way out, as she slams at the mirrors and the walls and screams. She needs it to come out. She needs it to give her answers.

"Just show your face, damn it! Show yourself!"

She needs to know why she's still alive.

*

Sasha breaks, eventually.

"Please," she whispers, huddling on the floor. There is a mirror on the wall she's leaning against, but she can't bring herself to rise up and look into it; she doesn't think she recognizes the person there anymore. "Please. I don't want to be alone here. Please, just-"

She leans her head against the wall, near the bottom frame of the mirror, closing her eyes tight. She doesn't want to cry.

Sasha gasps when something that feels like a human finger touches against her elbow, then strokes up the length of her arm.

"There you go," Michael says. "Not alone anymore."

It grasps her shoulder with a hand that is shaped like a human's, but feels like wet, heavy leather. Either way, it's the most welcome thing Sasha has ever felt.

*

"Your friends think you're missing," Michael tells her. They are sitting underneath the mirror together, Michael holding Sasha in its arms. Sasha feels like she's cocooned, and at the moment she's messed up enough to find comfort in that.

"Well, it's true," Sasha says. "When are you going to let me go? You will eventually, right?"

Michael's laughter is really the only answer she needs, but she waits anyway.

"Why would I do that? I like you, Sasha James. I don't want to see you get hurt again, and in that place, you will be." Michael tightens the grip of its arms around Sasha, pressing its face into her hair. It inhales, making Sasha shudder. "Believe me, I know. You are much better off here."

Sasha looks around her. They are sitting in a corridor and there are doorways to more corridors which will in turn lead to even more corridors, and it's never going to end. She shudders again, and now the tightness of the arms around her is starting to feel oppressive.

"What if I want to go?"

She knows it doesn't matter.

"You don't," Michael says, lifting one hand up so it can swipe Sasha's hair to the side, exposing her neck. It leans down, brushing its unnaturally smooth lips against her skin. "You'll see soon, that you don't."

It opens its mouth, closing it on the side of Sasha's neck.

Sasha could scream and thrash now. She doesn't.

*

"You're getting smaller."

Sasha has been in the corridors for quite a while now. Michael has her pinned against the wall, holding her wrists above her head with one hand while it runs another one down her side, feeling up her ribs through her shirt. Sasha shivers, but she allows the touch to happen; she doesn't have any other choices, and it doesn't hurt. It could hurt, but it won't, because Michael likes her.

She has to keep things that way.

"Well, you feed me quite irregularly." She doesn't mind that much; Michael isn't out to keep her in hunger, it just doesn't remember, and Sasha is always on the move in the corridors. In its own way, Michael is probably being the best host to her that it can be. "Really, we don't see each other that much," she points out, swallowing when Michael's hand settles on the curve of her waist.

Michael laughs softly, leaning against her with its body as it tilts its face down to hers.

"Perhaps I need to change that," it says, touching its mouth lightly against Sasha's own before pressing down on her, claiming her lips for a deep kiss.

Sasha lets herself melt into the kiss, return it. It doesn't matter what Michael does in the end: Michael may have saved her life, may hold her fate in its hands right now. But no matter how long it takes, how much she has to bend and beg and give in to make it happen, Sasha will, in the end, save herself.


End file.
